


long drive (could end in burning flames or paradise)

by stardustupinlights



Series: put your hand inside of mine [5]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Beach Sex, Blow Jobs in a Car, Boys in Skirts, Car Sex, Dorks in Love, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kinda, Kinky, Love, M/M, Power Play, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Sex in a Car, Sexual Roleplay, Teasing, a little bit, but not really, but not really bc car, degradation kink, he calls ryoken senpai for like five hot sec, he calls yusaku a slut shhh, i think that's what that's called, only yusaku tho, yeah that kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22587118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustupinlights/pseuds/stardustupinlights
Summary: After a shitty day at school, Yusaku finds himself sneaking out early and catches... a ride. In short, it's all Ryoken's fault.
Relationships: Fujiki Yuusaku & Homura Takeru, Fujiki Yuusaku & Zaizen Aoi, Fujiki Yuusaku/Revolver | Kougami Ryouken
Series: put your hand inside of mine [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1303448
Comments: 13
Kudos: 46





	long drive (could end in burning flames or paradise)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Trying to get this up fast because it's my birthday today and I wanted to upload something nice hehe. Have fun! If there's a tag missing then just hit me up and I'll add it. Thank you Celepom for the beta'ing, it was worth staying up 'till 2 am XD 
> 
> Enjoy!

Yusaku hates teenagers with all his heart.

They’re loud, indecisive yet impulsive, and far too engrossed in imaginary drama in some cases; all things that drive him completely up the wall. Yes, he is aware he is a teenager and sometimes enters into those very same designations, but at least he’s classy about it. Most of his reasons for acting that way come from his dead and buried desire for revenge on those who kidnapped and tortured him, but he left _most_ of that in the past. Now, he only ever acts like a teenager because he can’t really avoid it at times. It’s not like he’s busy. Other than the trying-to-locate-Ai thing, he just discovered his libido. He can admit he’s as guilty as they are, but that doesn’t mean he has to like them.

Several things happened at once this morning. First off, Yusaku agreed to eat in the cafeteria for once at Takeru’s request instead of confining himself to the roof. He piled up more food than he usually would when he bought his lunch, because it turns out his metabolism is the devil if he lets it dominate him. Secondly, someone he hadn’t ever seen before but who apparently is a senpai approached their table and made inappropriate comments about Yusaku’s preferences and his relationship with Ryoken. He didn’t use nice words.

All of this added up - of course - to Takeru jumping the guy and slamming his tray into his face, someone screaming ‘ _food fight!_ ’, and for Yusaku to regret ever being born as, on his way out of the cafeteria to avoid the madness, someone got him on the ass _and_ because that distracted him, someone else got him on the front. Yusaku remembers seeing red for three hot seconds, in which he almost turns around and dives right into the frontlines of the food war… but then he realizes he would probably become the target of the friends of the guy that Takeru now has a personal vendetta against, if the screaming he picks up is correct. So he takes a deep, calming breath, miraculously avoiding being hit by any more food in the process, and that helps him find the strength to keep walking and make his way over to the nearest bathroom.

A bathroom that turned out to be the ladies’, but _who the fuck cares_. His ruined pants _certainly_ don’t.

He sits on the closest toilet and closes the stall door behind him, trying not to let the guy’s words get to him, but it’s hard. As much as he never listens to what anyone else has to say about his life decisions, he cares too much about Ryoken and their relationship to just let it bounce off his skin. He doesn’t care what other people think, only how it may affect them as a couple— he isn’t sure where Ryoken stands on matters like this, but his gut tells him he probably cares as little as he does. It doesn’t mean he’s alright with Yusaku being verbally harassed over it, though.

Hateful words still hurt, and as whatever got thrown at his pants dries, Yusaku tries to take deep breaths and shake it off, steeling himself and fighting off a headache. He needs to figure out how to deal with this… sticky pants problem. He can’t walk around like this. It’s already getting uncomfortable.

Yusaku is halfway through plotting ways to sneak out of school to go home without being seen or alerting anyone when the bathroom door opens. He immediately lifts his legs up to avoid being seen, but realizes a bit too late that the door wasn’t locked, so he barely has time to go (very softly and with feeling) _‘shit’,_ before it’s being opened.

Zaizen Aoi makes eye contact with Yusaku and freezes for a few seconds. Then her gaze drifts down to his ruined pants and she winces.

“Fujiki-kun?” She asks, confused and perhaps a little worried about his lack of response. Yusaku does not move a muscle. He would like to disappear right now, that would be better than this. “Are you alright?”

Yusaku thinks about how his chest still hurts from his emotional rollercoaster of anger, shame, embarrassment and worry and presses his lips together in a line. “Yes. I’m just…”

He drifts off, his eyes falling down to stare at his ruined pants. He’s… he’s not that alright, if he’s being completely honest. Words are a dangerous weapon, this he knows, but this is the first time something like this happened and he was pathetically unprepared when he knows he should have been. Kissing Ryoken like that in front of the whole school two months and then some back was a risky if pleasant move.

The silence becomes slightly awkward, but Zaizen doesn’t leave. She stands, fidgeting as if she’s searching for the right words, and eventually speaks up, if a bit hesitant. “Do you need anything, Fujiki-kun?”

Yusaku thinks about it really hard, from behind the haze taking over his mind.

“Pants,” he blurts out, and Zaizen makes a sound like she agrees, even if she looks skeptical. He gestures weakly towards his clothes. “I should just go home, shouldn’t I?”

“You can’t go like that!” Zaizen exclaims, and they both wince at the echo of her voice bouncing off the bathroom tiles. The toilet seat makes a pitiful noise when Yusaku shifts to be a bit more comfortable, and Zaizen sighs as if she will regret this in a few hours. “Look, I have a spare skirt—”

Yusaku suddenly feels something in his chest drop, anxiety flaring and making him cut her words short. “I can’t wear a skirt. If anyone sees me like that—”

“Well, fuck them!”

Yusaku snaps his mouth shut in shock at Zaizen’s outburst, and she blushes, blinking in quick succession as if she wasn’t expecting it either. Still, she clears her throat and struggles to open her school bag mid-air, diving to the bottom of it and pulling out a skirt folded into a neat square. A couple of pens fly out of the bag, as well as a tampon; Yusaku bends down to pick it all up and hold it out to her. Her blush deepens even further, and she mumbles a quiet _‘thanks, sorry’_ before she’s all but pushing the skirt into his chest, stepping inside the stall and locking the door behind her.

“Uh,” Yusaku mumbles, failing to come up with words, and Zaizen just gestures wildly at him, still looking pink.

“Take off your pants,” she says, and then they both stare at each other until the embarrassment of her words settles over her, making her close her eyes and groan helplessly, one hand coming up to press against her face. Yusaku is starting to feel awkward as well; he’s used to Ryoken being the one ordering him to take off his pants. Zaizen clears her throat, shaking herself to get rid of the awkwardness. That might not be possible with him around. “ _Ah_ … just, you know. For you to change.”

Yusaku blinks. “I haven’t said I’ll wear it.”

Aoi stares him down, crossing her arms at the same time her expression shifts into a frown. “Fujiki, it doesn’t matter what they think. They’re living in their own fucked up world, the dark ages, whatever you want to call it— with their own little rules. Don’t listen to them.”

“You think it’s that simple?” Yusaku mirrors her expression, shooting her his own frown from his position on the toilet. It’s not the most dignified position, but if he stands up there will be less space in the stall than either of them will be comfortable with. “I know I shouldn’t care about what they think but—”

“It hurts,” Zaizen finishes, still looking tense and angry but taking the words right out of his mouth, Yusaku’s own protests dying down. “Believe me, I know it does.”

Yusaku stares at her in silence for perhaps a few seconds too long, because she breaks eye contact and shifts around her weight, letting her bag fall to the ground and crossing her arms again. There’s something genuinely vulnerable about her at this moment, like she’s intimately familiar with this kind of thing, and the connection clicks in his brain after only a few more seconds of staring.

“Oh,” he says, feeling embarrassed, and Zaizen huffs like he’s an idiot. Perhaps he is; the signs were right there. Maybe he should develop his social skills a little bit more, if only to avoid coming off like an asshole during situations like these. “I’m sorry about that…”

“It’s fine,” Zaizen waves off his words with her hand and then sighs, grabbing back the skirt from his frozen hands and unfolding it to get the wrinkles out. “I get it, ok? I may not be as… as _open_ about it as you are, but I’m still here. And, well… it’s just love, Fujiki-kun. You know that. And sometimes love hurts, despite us not wanting it to.”

Yusaku stares down at his ruined pants again and swallows, her words managing to pull at his heart strings considering the shit he's been through with Ryoken, their fight. It isn’t long before he’s nodding and stretching out his hand, reaching for the skirt.

“Thank you, Zaizen,” he mumbles, and she locks eyes with him for a few seconds before shooting him a smile, letting him have the skirt. He looks at the fabric and tries to figure out if there’s anything about it more complicated than he would expect, finds a zipper and a button on the side. He stares until Zaizen’s giggle, badly hidden behind a cough, makes him break. “How does this work, exactly?”

Her smile looks devious, and it reminds Yusaku of her many avatars. “I did tell you to take off your pants.”

The next few minutes are honestly embarrassing. Taking off his pants in a small ladies bathroom stall while being watched by a girl that has like three Link VRAINS alter egos and just pulled him out of a brooding episode is not so much fun as it is uncomfortable, mostly because of the cramped space.

Yusaku’s really glad he chose long underwear today, otherwise this may have been harder on his dignity than it already is. Not the _wearing a skirt_ part, but the getting his pants wet and having to take them off in the girls’ bathroom thing. He is surprisingly ok with the skirt, thanks to Zaizen’s encouragement and the fact that he doesn’t have fragile masculinity, unlike some. Figuring it out isn’t that hard. She gave him simple instructions: take off his pants, give them to her so she could try to wash out most of the mess, make sure his underwear didn’t get caught in the fire, and open up the button and zipper on the side of the skirt before sliding it up his legs. He did this mostly right, until he realized the tag was on the front and he had to shift it around to fix it, but he would still count it as a success.

He doesn’t get to be as cheerful about his pants, though.

“They’re completely ruined, Fujiki-kun,” Zaizen calls from the sink, sounding as disappointed as he feels. He’s trying to figure out whether he should tuck his shirt in or not, and how to even do that, because the skirt is almost, _almost_ too small on him, so there’s not much extra space to put it in. This is surprisingly confusing. “Maybe if you send them to a dry cleaning service they might figure something out but the fabric isn’t looking too good.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yusaku shrugs, and then opens the stall door. Zaizen turns and her eyes immediately travel to the skirt and then his legs, which makes him feel a little bit self-conscious for a moment until she sighs, an amused smile curling her lips upwards. He continues, feeling more awkward that he probably ever has in his life. “I’ll just buy new ones. They were old anyways.”

Yusaku has been using the same pair almost every single day since he bought them when he enrolled into Den City High School and his scholarship went through. It’s _perhaps_ time for a change.

Zaizen steps towards him and makes a gesture towards the edge of the skirt, where his underwear is peeking out. “I know you don’t really care that much about your appearance but you could try to make this look less like some unfortunate accident happened.”

Yusaku frowns. “But an unfortunate accident did happen. It’s fine like this. I’ll call someone to pick me up, so I won’t be taking the train.”

“You look like you haven’t done laundry in months and you’re scrambling for clean clothes,” Zaizen raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, and Yusaku pretends that she doesn’t have a point. His laundry is made… perhaps not as often as it should, but it is. And he has plenty of new clothes he never uses because he doesn’t want to give Ryoken ideas, and plenty of stolen shirts from his unsuspecting boyfriend. He’s fine. Those are for special occasions only. “At least tuck your shirt in and fold the edges of your underwear—”

Zaizen gets interrupted by the bathroom door slamming open, making them both jump. Yusaku’s back collides with the door of one of the stalls, having taken a few steps back in shock, and his eyes immediately try to look for an alternate exit, like a window, before he realizes it’s just Takeru, covered in various substances, with his hair slicked back and his glasses held carefully between two of his fingers, clearly trying to keep them from getting any dirtier.

“Yusaku,” he says, once he runs a hand over his face and gets what seems the remnants of cup ramen out of his eyes, so he can see clearly. “Ah, I didn’t see you leave and I had to look for you, I’m sorry about reacting that way but that guy was _such_ an asshole! I should have beaten his ass even _harder,_ if you think I look bad you should see the other guy _—_ ”

Takeru happens to glance down at his legs and his words suddenly stop. He blinks like he’s not sure he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. Probably not expecting Yusaku to be wearing a skirt out of nowhere, but then Zaizen clears her throat and Takeru jumps almost dropping his glasses as bits of vegetables and noodles and rice fall to the ground.

“Zaizen!” He says, his voice breaking due to his shock and going off pitch, which is too loud thanks to the echo of the bathroom. The three of them wince, but Zaizen suddenly looks like whatever warmth she had just disappeared. Takeru certainly hasn’t earned her semi-friendly acquaintance yet. “Ah, I’m really, really sorry! I know this is the girl’s bathroom but I was looking for Yusaku and for some reason he’s here—”

Zaizen crosses her arms, rolling her eyes. “It’s alright, Homura-kun. The teachers are probably too distracted dealing with the mess in the cafeteria to notice any boys in the girls’ bathroom.”

Takeru’s shoulders slump. “I… good point.”

Then he very obviously stares at Yusaku’s legs again and Yusaku self-consciously pulls the fabric down. Zaizen grabs his wrist to stop him and shoots him a look like she will murder him if he does anything to this skirt that might damage its integrity, and because Yusaku knows this probably came from at the very least a decent store he decides he’ll try his best to not ruin it.

“So…” Takeru starts, approaching them with slow steps. His shoes make wet sloshing noises against the tile, and both Yusaku and Zaizen take a few steps back to avoid getting caught in the crossfire that is… him. Takeru winces like he knows and accepts he’s going to suffer from this but doesn’t regret it. He gestures at the skirt. “This is the plan?”

Yusaku nods, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah. Ryoken will pick me up.”

“Do what I told you to and I’ll wait outside in case a teacher comes around,” Zaizen says, grabbing her school bag off the counter and walking around Takeru to get to the bathroom entrance. She probably sensed how tense Yusaku is right now, nervous about how to break the ice with Takeru after he literally jumped a guy to defend him, and he appreciates it… but he would have also liked some backup. Zaizen locks eyes with him from the door and raises her eyebrows, which tells him all he needs to know. Fuck. “I suggest you hurry up!”

Then she’s out and Yusaku decides he’s going to get this over with as quickly as possible. He watches Takeru shoot him a smile and approach the sink to try and get some of the mess out. His prospects aren’t looking good.

“Takeru,” he calls, trying to sound confident, but feels himself hunching over when he turns to look at him, his eyes curious but open. He feels like squirming, almost, but he doesn’t simply because it’s weird to be able to feel the skin of his thighs rubbing together. He doesn’t dare to stand normally; he’s afraid that if he relaxes his legs the skirt will ride up. “Thank you for… for that. It means a lot.”

It’s a lame thank you, Yusaku thinks, but Takeru brings one of his hands up to wave it off, making more food fly everywhere but mercifully not landing on Yusaku.

“Don’t worry about it, it was the logical thing to do—” He cuts himself off at the look Yusaku shoots him, nodding. “Ok, maybe not the logical thing, but the sensitive one?”

Yusaku shrugs. “You could have just said the right thing.”

“Same difference,” Takeru grins, then grabs a bunch of paper towels to try and clean off the food. He isn’t very successful. His sigh is heavy yet understanding. "It's cool. They deserved it, the nasty pricks"

"You'll probably get in trouble for it."

"I don't really care," Takeru shrugs, not looking at him. "You're my friend and honestly, getting their asses handed to them one time won't ruin their lives. Who knows, they might learn to show some respect."

Yusaku hums in mild agreement, and then with a sigh, takes a step closer to him. "I had no idea you could fight."

Takeru makes a sound that was probably meant to be a snort but clearly the remnants of food up his nose didn't help, since he chokes and Yusaku almost touches him to pat him on the back and help him. He decides against it.

"Well, you know, I've had my scuffles," he wheezes, blowing his nose over the sink, and Yusaku cringes. "Got in a lot of trouble. Eventually I had to learn how to get myself out of it."

"It happened that often?" Yusaku leans his back against the sink, quite a ways away from him, trying not to sound too incredulous. "You don't look like you got into fights."

Pouting, Takeru runs his hands through his hair to get the rest of the vegetables out. "I don't anymore. That was a different person, I guess… I just don't like people I care about being hurt, and you're my best friend, so really, this was nothing."

Yusaku stands there in silence for a few minutes, processing his words and trying not to get too emotional about this. Hugging his arms to his body, Yusaku looks off to the side and wills away the knot in his throat, and it isn't until a few seconds later, listening to the sink water run, that he manages to speak up.

"Thank you," he says, not looking at Takeru. "It means a lot."

There's a pause as Takeru scrubs his face, and Yusaku hears him taking off his jacket before setting a hand on his shoulder. Looking up to meet his eyes, Yusaku finds him smiling, and it's so genuine and contagious that he can't help but return it.

"Hey, anytime," winking, Takeru steps back and looks at himself in the mirror with a heavy sigh, as if he's really seeing himself for the first time. "I'm going to be here a while. Is your ride here yet?"

Dread filling his chest, Yusaku runs his hand through his hair once and then steps back into the stall he was using to grab his phone from his bag. He dials Ryoken's phone number without even looking at it, and hates the way anxiety accelerates his heartbeat and makes him nervous about something that usually comes naturally.

The phone rings four times, which is one time too many because Ryoken always answers on the third, but then Yusaku hears it cutting off right after and he's met with the sound of his favorite voice.

"Hey there," Ryoken starts, winded and apparently surprised. "I left my phone in the kitchen, sorry about that. Are you having lunch?"

Yusaku takes a deep breath. "I was, but there were some… complications. I need you to pick me up."

Ryoken pauses, clearly not expecting that instead of their usual conversations during lunch. He sounds genuinely concerned when he speaks up, which makes Yusaku feel bad about giving him no context. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's just… I'm having a bad day. I can't be here right now," Yusaku swallows and turns around to look at Takeru, who shoots him a thumbs up. "Can you come over right now?"

"...yeah, I'll be there in a minute. Are you going to talk to me about this?"

"Maybe," Yusaku closes his eyes, starting to bend in an attempt to breathe in easier, before realizing that yeah, no, that wasn't a good idea _at all._ "It's a lot."

Ryoken makes a sound that clearly indicates he's not pleased with that decision, but still agrees to be there again for him, saying goodbye with a quiet ' _I love you'_ that soothes the pain in his chest just a bit.

"I still can't believe you're dating him, to be honest," Takeru speaks up, and Yusaku turns to him to find him cleaning his glasses, without much success, squinting like he can't see shit. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you—"

"But you don't approve?" Yusaku guesses, to which Takeru immediately blanches and backtracks, shaking his head. "It's fine—"

"Hey, no, _no,_ I'm really happy for you and if you're dating someone then they're decent at least. And I'm not blind, he's _really fucking handsome,_ but I just—" Takeru throws his hands up and shrugs, apparently out of words. "I don't know him? I don't _trust_ him for sure and I will kick his ass if he does something to you."

"Well," Yusaku starts, not knowing exactly what to do with this information. Ryoken’s already done things to him. Good things. Incredibly enjoyable things. "I guess that's valid. Do you really think Ryoken's handsome?"

Takeru snorts, and thankfully doesn't choke this time. "I’m as sure of it as I am that you have pretty legs."

Yusaku rolls his eyes and pulls down the skirt just a little bit, then proceeds to tuck in his shirt while looking in the mirror and to roll up his underwear like he was told. It's a mess, but at least it doesn't look _quite_ as bad as before. He leaves the bathroom not too long after, keeping an eye on his phone for Ryoken’s arrival, and finds that Zaizen is nowhere to be seen.

Yusaku figures that she’s made herself scarce or is distracting a teacher, but he doesn’t worry too much for her, since she wasn’t even involved with the food fight in the first place. Sneaking out isn’t exactly easy, but he finds no obstacles despite the situation, and the second he sees Ryoken’s car appear on the curb Yusaku’s steps away from his hiding spot among the trees. He pretty much bolts, actually, opens the door as fast as he can and slams it shut with in the same determined manner, letting out a deep breath and turning towards Ryoken, who’s already turning towards him and taking off his sunglasses, opening his mouth to speak at the same time.

“Hey— _uh_ ,” Ryoken’s jaw hangs open when his eyes inevitably fall on Yusaku’s bare legs. He’s holding what smells like a cup of cold coffee, the straw between his lips, but it escapes them as his eyes widen at the sight. He stares and stares until Yusaku feels himself blushing from head to toe and closes his eyes in annoyance, begging for his life to end or for a way to skip this conversation. Ryoken eventually clears his throat rather awkwardly, but only once he notices Yusaku will not acknowledge the situation himself. “Hello there, _love_ , to what do I owe this very, _very_ pleasant surprise?”

Yusaku scoffs and takes his drink from him, ignoring his weak sound of protest and almost takes a sip, before he remembers Ryoken drinks _sugar_ , not coffee. “Don’t be a creep and fucking drive.”

“I’m not being a creep,” Ryoken frowns, but actually listens for once and does as he’s told, steering the car out of the school grounds and heading for his apartment while shaking his head. He’s wearing a tank top and sweatpants, a casual outfit that makes it hard for Yusaku to act like he’s mad at him.. “I’m just appreciating the view. Am I not allowed to lay eyes upon my ridiculously good-looking boyfriend?”

Yusaku glances at his bare arms and wonders if he’s ever seen himself in the mirror. “You looked like you were going to eat me.”

“Ha! Maybe I am. I did spend all morning setting up that goddamn bed,” he says, clicking his tongue and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Yusaku knows that he would be winking at him if he could take his eyes off the road, but he does keep sneaking glances at his legs. Yusaku should rethink his relationship simply because Ryoken is a road hazard right now, as if his beauty doesn’t already make him one. “Your coffee is in the cup holder, by the way. Now, are you going to explain or do I have to hold your dessert hostage?”

“I’d rather not, to be honest,” Yusaku sighs, reaching for his very own overly expensive coffee. Ryoken always went overkill on cup sizes, not that his caffeine addicted brain minds. Ryoken tries to grab his own drink back, but Yusaku keeps it out of his reach in fear of the unholy amounts of sugar in it making them crash. “I just want to go home and take a nap. Was building the bed problematic for you?”

Ryoken makes a noise akin to those Yusaku’s heard on documentaries about whales. “You know, it wasn’t that bad at the start, but then I had to reassemble a couple things, and then do it again, and once more to be sure. I’m never doing this shit alone ever again. I don’t care how many times you pout at me.”

 _I can’t believe this is what it took to break him,_ Yusaku bites down a grin, sipping at his cup quietly. It’s always a delight to see Ryoken losing his cool

It doesn’t make him any less attentive to Yusaku’s mood.

“Don’t try to avoid the subject, though,” he sighs, giving Yusaku a quick look that’s probably meant to serve as a warning. “You can’t call me sounding like someone kicked your puppy in the middle of the day to tell me to come pick you up and expect me to not be worried or curious.”

“I don’t have a puppy,” Yusaku mumbles, rolls his eyes, and sighs when he feels rather than sees Ryoken shooting him a look that tells him he’s not fooled by his poor attempts at deflection. Yusaku narrows his eyes and sips from his coffee again, allowing himself to be grumpy as he mumbles the worst understatement of his life. “Just some homophobic assholes at school. Takeru started a food fight, I got hit, and Zaizen lent me a skirt.”

Ryoken hums like he’s thinking about how he’s going to tackle Yusaku’s unwillingness to share more details, but otherwise seems relaxed. “I’m going to assume that Homura starting a food fight is directly related to the homophobic assholes?”

“You assume correctly.”

“Then I owe him one,” Ryoken reaches out with one hand, so Yusaku places Ryoken’s drink in the cup holder to let him hold it, tangling their fingers together, Ryoken’s thumb brushing over his knuckles, concerned, but not alarmed. “Are you okay?”

Yusaku shrugs. “It’s just words.”

Ryoken hums like he agrees, but his silence lasts only a moment.

“I’m guessing they mentioned me?” He asks, as serious as ever, so Yusaku just nods in answer, not really wanting to recall the incident. He just wants to take a catnap, cuddle Ryoken and maybe make out with him after said nap. Ryoken will probably not let him without talking about it, though, so Yusaku decides to speak up before he does.

“It’s the only thing that bothered me, really,” Yusaku frowns at the road, avoids looking at Ryoken because he doesn’t want to think about him getting upset as well, or having a negative reaction. If they’re both upset then there’s no hope of this afternoon being any fun. Mutually miserable cuddling is not quite the same as comfort cuddling. “They said you were paying me, and that we’re sick, and that Takeru should get away from me before he catches something.”

Yusaku hears Ryoken taking a deep breath and he can’t help but mirror it, frustration welling up inside him because after the initial shock of the words all that’s left is that, and a deep pain in his chest as if someone were stabbing him.

“Did they try to do anything to you?”

The question makes Yusaku choke a little bit on his drink, and he hurries to shake his head. “Fuck, Ryoken, it wasn’t like that. They were just some righteous assholes and Takeru already broke the nose of at least one of them. It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Ryoken corrects him, so Yusaku looks at him and finds him sneaking glances again, but this time just at his face. “You shouldn’t have to stand stuff like that, but I’m glad it didn’t escalate.”

“It did,” Yusaku deadpans, pointing at his legs. “You think it was easy to sneak out of the school like this?”

Ryoken’s lips quirk up, but he holds his grin down. “I hardly see that as an issue. I insist; you look delicious in that skirt—”

“Don’t start,” Yusaku brings Ryoken’s hand up to his lips, kisses whatever skin he can get his lips on. “You’re so silly sometimes.”

“Only for you,” Ryoken says, sends Yusaku a look that screams of love and affection that makes him feel so flustered he has to look away in order to process it. “I love you.”

“You sound so sure of that,” are the words that slip out of his lips, so soft he doesn’t even realize he said them until after they’re out there, but the way Ryoken’s smiles, almost as if for himself, confirm that he said it out loud. “Where are you taking me?”

Ryoken’s eyebrows raise, but his smile does not falter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yusaku rolls his eyes and bites back a smile, letting go of Ryoken’s hand to grab the paper bag resting on the key holder, taking out his promised dessert: a brownie. Leave it to Ryoken to get him his own favorite dessert instead of something bitter and to take a bite like he wouldn’t notice, but Yusaku is pleasantly surprised when he feels almonds crack under his teeth, followed closely by the taste of bitter coffee and chocolate.

“My apartment is barely five minutes away by car with no traffic. You have been driving for more than ten now, and don’t think I haven’t noticed this is not your usual route,” Yusaku takes a sip of his coffee and delights in the way Ryoken groans, his plans to catch him off guard foiled. “There are two paranoid people in this car, Ryoken.”

“I swear you’re only surprised by the simplest things sometimes,” Ryoken shakes his head and shoots Yusaku a smile; the one that never fails to make his heart race because it’s just downright mischievous. Ryoken’s hand lands on his thigh, where the skirt has rode up thanks to Yusaku’s absent minded fidgeting in his seat. The contact of skin on skin, especially in such a delicate area, with the tip of Ryoken’s fingers just brushing over his inner thigh, makes him downright squirm and forget any discomfort over the skirt. “I thought we could have a walk on the beach. It’s bound to be deserted on a Monday morning like this one.”

Ryoken squeezes his leg after he finishes talking, and Yusaku struggles to breathe, because this is a situation he’s not prepared for; both the hand on his skin and the idea of walking on a beach underneath this almost summer-sun from hell makes his brain short-circuit, and Ryoken’s everything was already distracting him enough. He puts down his own coffee, hoping the cup holder will keep it safe enough, because he doesn't trust himself.

“I hate you,” he eventually blurts out, his voice strained, but it feels nice to hear Ryoken laugh, even as the hand over his thigh climbs higher, making him shiver. “You shouldn’t do this while driving.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ryoken licks his lips, takes an U-turn and stops at a red light barely a few seconds later. Without any hesitation, he grabs Yusaku’s school tie, pulls him in and kisses him, tongue brushing Yusaku’s mouth before his lips do. Yusaku doesn’t even have the time to reciprocate and properly welcome that tongue inside his mouth, before Ryoken is pulling back, turning towards the road just as the light turns blue, his hand coming back down to rest against his thigh, even higher than before. He’s under his rolled up underwear now. “Do you know what the best way to stick it to homophobes is?”

Yusaku swallows, a bit dizzy from the kiss. “No?”

“Getting fucked in a car after a furious makeout session,” Ryoken deadpans, his voice as casual as if he’s talking about the weather, and Yusaku very nearly chokes on the violent intake of air the words make him take. “It’ll be fun.”

“Ryoken,” Yusaku grabs the hand on his thigh, has to stop himself from visibly shaking because somehow Ryoken’s words are doing it for him. He never _knew_ he wanted to get fucked in a car. “Ryoken, we can do that at home.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Yusaku groans out loud, but it turns into a pouty whine when Ryoken suddenly runs his knuckles over his inner thigh, so close to his cock that he has to bite his lip and turn away from him to create some space between them, to get his hand away from the danger zone, because Yusaku is weak enough to his charms to let him do something dangerous and reckless— like kissing him at a red light.

God, he’s in love.

Yusaku bites the inside of his cheek for the rest of the ride, feeling Ryoken’s fingers dancing over his skin and keeping himself quiet, because he wants this. He doesn’t know if it’s just because Ryoken is so eager to do this, or if the idea of fucking somewhere public just turns him on, but he thinks it might be a combination of that plus how shit his day’s been. Ryoken is right; perhaps the best way to spite homophobes was to get a dick up his ass and enjoy it where anyone could find them.

A quick glance out of the corner of his eye allows him to see that Ryoken’s dick is starting to tent his sweatpants, the sight making him swallow and squeeze his eyes closed briefly before opening them again to look out the window. He’s embarrassingly hard by the time they get onto the highway that will lead them to Stardust Road, squirming and hugging one arm around himself while he keeps his free hand over Ryoken’s to just keep him there, where he can keep track of him and fidget with his fingers. Ryoken’s smirk is so smug but encouraging that he can’t help but get even more riled up by it. The tension builds and builds until he’s all but hyperventilating from it, eager and hornier than he thought he could be after that shit morning.

Any logical thought flies out of the window when Ryoken takes the turn off the highway to drive towards the private road leading up to his house, opens the gate, and then takes another turn inside to park the car on the sand belonging to the private section of the beach that belongs to him, where his private dock is, and then turns off the vehicle..

Yusaku moves first. He gets on his knees on his seat, lifts a leg over Ryoken’s and then effectively climbs into his lap, not giving a shit about the dangers of being in the driver’s seat and wrapping himself around him. Ryoken’s hands immediately go to his ass, grabbing him and pulling him in until their groins are flushed together, his mouth attacking his own with his tongue plunging right in. Yusaku welcomes it all like he’s in the desert and Ryoken is the last glass of water in the world, grinding and moaning the second he registers the outline of Ryoken’s cock, struggling between pushing back against his hands or forwards against that intense heat that’s already making him forget any of his complaints.

Ryoken’s tongue is merciless against his own, wrapping around it and bringing it into his own mouth so he could suck on it, making him shiver and tighten his grip on his shoulders, squirming on his lap with a need he always finds himself baffled by. It’s incredible how much Yusaku wants to just open his legs for him and let him have his way, taste him and reduce him to nothing but pure pleasure, and he wants it now.

“Ryoken,” Yusaku finds himself moaning, breaking apart from the kiss to take a deep breath, runs his lips over the sharpness of his jaw and nibbles on his neck, squeezing his eyes closed as Ryoken’s hand sneaks underneath the skirt and his underwear to press his fingers against his flesh. He’s starting to see the advantages of skirts. “Fuck, you better have some lube on hand because I’m going to murder you if you’ve been teasing me for nothing.”

“Don’t worry, babe,” Ryoken runs his lips over his collarbones, starts pushing Yusaku’s school blazer off his shoulders with one hand and undoing the buttons of his shirt with the other. He feels his whole body twitching when Ryoken’s hand grazes a nipple. “I got you covered. It’s all about you today.”

Ryoken lets his jacket fall onto the passenger seat, drags his mouth down his chest to latch it onto a nipple. Yusaku arches his back, leans backwards, and scares the shit out of them both when his back presses against the car horn. Yusaku very nearly falls off Ryoken’s lap, a gasp leaving his lips, and Ryoken almost hits himself with the window, but it’s all fine. Ryoken doesn’t bite off his nipple, which he’s extremely thankful for.

They stare at each other, and Ryoken breaks first. “Get in the backseat.”

Despite the scare, his voice is rough, his eyes still dark, and it is with an urgency Yusaku is rarely capable of outside of emergency situations that he tries to open the door, fails, tries again and trips because of the weakness of his legs while he’s getting off Ryoken’s lap, only being saved by him grabbing his elbow. Yusaku continues, though, opening the backseat door and laying back on it, squirming at the thought of Ryoken squishing him against the seat while crawling in between his legs and having to close his eyes to process the image and keep his dick at bay.

He hears Ryoken opening and closing the glove compartment, then his footsteps on the sand. He stops, making Yusaku open his eyes just in time to see him grab his ankles and pull him back down the seat, just enough for him to bend down into the car and kiss him while leaning one knee on the edge of the seat, run his hands up his legs until he’s pulling the underwear off him and tossing it at the front. His mouth makes a path down his chest the same way it was before, but this time he reaches his bellybutton, kneels on the ground and pulls him even lower on the seat until his legs are outside against the door frame of the car, nuzzles his cock and makes Yusaku moan, long and low, when he runs his tongue over the skirt and sucks, almost playfully, at the fabric.

Yusaku brings a hand up to cover his mouth, and the other grabs at the back of the driver’s seat, his whole body going rigid.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Ryoken mumbles, lifting the skirt and making eye contact with Yusaku at the same time he licks a strip up his cock, back arching and the hand over his mouth coming down to grip his hair, to keep him as close as possible, because Ryoken was an absolute menace when it came to teasing him, and Yusaku wanted him _now_. “You’re _so_ tense, love. I’m going to help you open up.”

Ryoken sucks the head of his dick into his mouth, hollows out his cheeks, and slowly makes his way down, his tongue finding just the right spots to lick at, to tickle, to make his legs twitch and the moans roll off his tongue, whimpers mixing in with every suck, his body shivering once he feels what he assumes is Ryoken’s thumb teasing his rim, just a dry touch that’s meant to send a message about what’s coming.

It’s not long before Yusaku’s pudding on the seat, his hips lifting up into Ryoken’s mouth instinctively and making him grab his hips to hold him down and keep him from choking him. Ryoken gets him so wet with his saliva that it drips down his balls, over his ass, onto the seat— fuck, it’s going to be awful to clean later, but Yusaku can hardly care when Ryoken’s tongue is doing that twirling thing he has no idea how he manages to do and making his toes curl.

Ryoken pulls away with a sigh, licks down his skin and latches his tongue over his rim, sucks once - hard - and then starts massaging the entrance with his tongue. Yusaku makes a sound that he thinks is not totally human and can’t be anywhere near attractive, but Ryoken just gets his hands under his ass to lift him up a little, part his asscheeks, breach inside and then go deeper, showing Yusaku just how skilled he could be with his tongue.

“Ryoken,” Yusaku whines, rolls his hips against his face and crosses his ankles over his back, wanting him deeper, closer, needing to have him. “Ryoken, _please_.”

Ryoken curls his tongue inside him in a way that makes Yusaku think he’s going to come right that second, and then pulls away, licking his lips and smirking at him while pressing a finger against him, slipping it inside him up until the first knuckle. It makes Yusaku throw his head back against the seat and whimper, clenching around it, his chest heaving.

“Sorry, this lube bottle is tiny. I have to make the most out of it,” he says, then leans back down to lick around his finger. “Be patient, enjoy it, there’s no—”

“ _Hurry up_ ,” Yusaku snaps, allows his voice to take on that needy edge Ryoken likes to tease him about, any initial and unavoidable embarrassment fading the second Ryoken wiggles his finger, testing the resistance.

“You’re clenching, Yusaku,” Ryoken runs his lips over his thigh, nibbles and sucks at the same time he wiggles his finger once more, making Yusaku’s hips twitch. “Relax, it’s just you and me.”

Yusaku closes his eyes and swallows. "I can't believe you're going to fuck me in a car, on Stardust Road."

Ryoken pushes his finger inside a little bit, then pulls it back, making Yusaku's back arch, his legs scrambling to wrap around Ryoken's shoulders and _keep him there_.

"This technically isn't Stardust Road," Ryoken chuckles, thinking he's _oh so_ clever. Yusaku opens one eye to glare at him, but the moment there's eye contact his finger pushes in again, rubbing against his rim to get him to open up. A sound so weak but full of need leaves Yusaku's lips, and he hears Ryoken taking a deep breath. "Ok, maybe I can speed up a little."

"Fuck, you think?" Yusaku snaps again, clenching around the finger just to prove a point, sees him licking his lips. "Ryoken, _I want you_."

"And you got me," Ryoken runs a hand over his chest, innocently rubs his finger over a nipple and makes goosebumps rise on his skin. He pulls his finger out, gets his hands back on the lube bottle and opens it, squirting it onto his fingers. "Relax. I'm going to get you properly wet and ready to take me."

He says it in a completely cool manner, not at all meant to be serious dirty talk, but the mere thought of it makes him tense up. He's quick to take a deep breath to calm down, but fantasies about what's to come run through his head and make him bite his lips in arousal.

" _Fujiki_ , that's the opposite of relaxing," Ryoken shakes his head, fighting off a smile, and leans in to kiss Yusaku's rim, prying it open with his tongue until Yusaku has no choice but to let it happen.

It's a good trick, he has to admit. Yusaku's so focused on the wet, strong, hot tongue inside him that he barely notices Ryoken using his lubed up middle finger to stretch his rim and slip the tip inside until he's almost halfway to the second knuckle.

Ryoken pulls out his tongue and wiggles his finger in, adjusting his angle. Yusaku's entire body spasms and Ryoken takes the chance to drive the finger in deeper at the same time he kisses his thighs, marks them with his teeth so much that he can almost imagine how hard it'll be to sit on a few hours.

"You're doing great, babe," Ryoken whispers right up against his skin, then leans in to lick a strip up Yusaku's cock, briefly sucking on the head and finally inserting the whole length of his finger inside him. Yusaku's mouth opens in a silent prayer of his name, mouthing it instead of actually speaking it, and he brings a hand up to cover his eyes once more, overwhelmed. "Yeah, that's it. Would you mind telling me how it feels? I want to hear you."

Yusaku's brain struggles to form words, but he manages, somehow, to speak up, his voice raw. "Fuck, Ryoken, I— this feels so good. I can't… your fingers and your tongue, shit, only your cock could fill me up better. You need to go faster."

The praise earns him a groan and the slow, careful drag of Ryoken’s finger slipping out of his ass before thrusting in again, twisting and curling right up against that little button of nerves in a way that makes Yusaku’s back arch, his hips rolling with the motion. Ryoken presses his lips against Yusaku’s thigh, takes a bite out of it like he couldn’t help himself, and keeps working him until he’s able to, after some re-lubing, slip a second finger in.

It makes Yusaku whine, and he’s not exactly proud of the way he wraps his knee around Ryoken’s neck and brings him forward in desperation, but he really wants to get on with it. “Ryoken, please, please hurry—”

“It’s ok.” Is the only answer he gets, whispered low and husky against his skin, and Ryoken scissors his fingers open and slowly, _so slowly_ , prepares him for what’s next. The third finger comes after too long that Yusaku lets out a deep breath of relief, despite it probably actually being just a few minutes, and it earns him Ryoken chuckling at him in a way that has Yusaku blushing furiously, even as he eagerly lifts his hips and wiggles in his direction, wanting him to go deeper.

Yusaku’s so close to coming it’s actually starting to drive him mad, not able to formulate words beyond _‘please’_ because it feels like Ryoken is playing with him by taking so long, but Ryoken manages to keep him from doing so, not touching his cock again and only focusing on stretching him without giving his prostate much stimulation whatsoever. It’s only when Yusaku feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes that Ryoken seems to declare his work done, slips his fingers out and crawls over the backseat, his back bent, in order to shower Yusaku’s face with kisses, sweet in contrast to how possessive this position feels, his body shielding him from the rest of the car and the outside.

“How do you wanna do this?” Ryoken asks, breath hot against his ear as he starts fingering at the edge of the skirt, lips brushing his cheek.

Yusaku tries to think about what would be more efficient space-wise, but he only wants one thing and that’s currently pressing up slightly against his belly and his own neglected cock, so he can only shake his head and breathe for a bit in order to manage to get the words out, because he knows Ryoken will insist if Yusaku just tells him to do _whatever_ right now.

“ _…fuck_ , wanna ride you,” he settles on, a little shiver running down his spine at the idea, and Ryoken seems to freeze, take a deep breath as his body tightens, probably picturing the same thing Yusaku is right now. He doesn’t know why he does this, but with the reminder of the skirt Yusaku finds himself wrapping his legs around Ryoken’s waist and trying to bring him down, his voice shaky. “Can I, senpai? Please?”

Ryoken’s breath leaves him in a wheeze and Yusaku feels his cock twitch against him, making him whine softly as Ryoken talks over the sound. “ _Fuck_ , you’re going to be the death of me; of course we can.”

Yusaku feels admittedly giddy at that, reassured that he’s not the only one that’s going crazy while probably starting to suffer from heatstroke. Ryoken crawls out of the car and Yusaku sits up, enters the rest of the way in so Ryoken can follow. He closes the door, and the tension immediately triples as Yusaku crawls onto his lap and grabs a fistful of his shirt in order to press their mouths together in a searing kiss, Ryoken curling his tongue and sucking on his lips in a way that makes Yusaku’s whole body melt.

Ryoken doesn’t even take off his pants, instead just pushing the fabric down just enough to get his cock out, and has to practically push Yusaku away in order to lube up. Yusaku decides to do it for him, which allows him to feel him in his hand, heavy and throbbing and making Ryoken grab tightly onto Yusaku’s hips, a curse leaving his lips.

Yusaku wants to give him a blowjob _so bad._ But Ryoken makes eye contact with him right as he looks up to stare at his face, at the sweat dripping down the neck of his tank top and his arms, and the smirk and heated gaze he’s met with actually makes him stop and swallow, listening for guidance.

“Well, what are you waiting for, hm?” Ryoken asks, and his teasing tone makes Yusaku lick his lips, lift himself on his knees and slide forwards in order to press his chest against Ryoken’s in order to guide his cock inside his ass, hands shaking and taking a second to just _feel it_ right against his rim before actually letting the head slip in, his whole body wound tight. Ryoken brings a hand up and grabs his chin, makes him look at him in the eye, and while he also looks like he’s about to downright slam Yusaku down on him, he still manages lean in, kiss his mouth, and shoot him a little teasing smile with an arched eyebrow. “Go on, then, princess.”

The nickname forces a groan out of Yusaku’s lips, and just like that he’s nodding and taking Ryoken in one slick yet incredibly tight slide, too fast and way too hard and way too deep for a start but so good Yusaku’s gasping out a shaky _‘fuck,_ fuck _yeah’_ even as Ryoken’s hands grab onto his waist to keep him from moving, his body tense under Yusaku’s and gasping out a breath, any smugness wiped from his expression. The skirt is still on, fabric shifting against Yusaku’s cock and giving him a mental image of himself riding Ryoken from behind, the skirt barely hiding the girth of Ryoken’s cock going inside him. It’s enough to have him squeeze his eyes shut and his cock leak to create a new wet spot on the fabric.

“Fuck, that was too quick,” Ryoken pants out, but Yusaku just shakes his head and rolls his hips in place since Ryoken won’t let him move, and the feeling has him moaning, long and high-pitched, on the verge of begging. “Yusaku, I have _told you—”_

“—I wanna ride you, _please_ ,” he interrupts, trying to open his legs even wider and moaning at every little shift, practically feeling Ryoken’s resolve struggling against how goddamn desperate he is. “Please, senpai, please let go—”

Ryoken’s grip tightens on his hips and he’s unexpectedly thrusting up into Yusaku, slowly, planting his feet on the floor of the car in order to get leverage and holding Yusaku so hard that it doesn’t even jostle him; it makes him take it as deep as it would go at this angle, slow yet roughly brushing his prostate in the best and worst possible way. It sends shivers down his spine and makes him bring his hand up to his mouth to stop the helpless, weak noises that threaten to make this sound like a porno, but Ryoken’s leaning in and forcing Yusaku to arch his back to grab a nipple into his mouth, and that’s all it takes for him to let his head fall back and let Ryoken rule over his mind, body and heart.

“You’re gonna be a cute little princess and take it, aren’t you?” Ryoken whispers, and its followed by him blowing on his nipple, over the wetness of the saliva he left behind, his whole body twitching with it. Yusaku moans out his name, shifts on his cock, but Ryoken doesn’t relent. “ _Hoh?_ What happened to _‘senpai_ ’, hm? Are you gonna drop it just because you’re getting fucked in the back of a car like the little slut you are?”

“Holy shit,” Yusaku lets out, breath rushing out, his cock straining, and he knows without a doubt that he could come just from this; from Ryoken calling him names and making him be good and take his time to enjoy it instead of trying to get off as fast as possible. Ryoken’s lips move to his neck, arms pulling him in and hips thrusting up just enough to make him feel the drag, and it’s torture. So, so bad and yet so good Yusaku’s shaking, already worked up to just the right place. “Ryoken, Ryoken, I—fuck, I wanna cum, please.”

His only response is a hum and Ryoken keeps thrusting up slightly, Yusaku’s moans and his quick breathing fills the car with noise, Ryoken’s pants and grunts mixing with them. It’s too much yet not enough, and the lips and teeth against his neck paired with the hands gripping his waist and the cock sliding up and down his ass are making him feel owned in a way so possessive and intimate that Yusaku’s whimpering within minutes, his hands going from tangled in Ryoken’s hair to sliding down his chest and moving backwards to hold his own ass cheeks open. The moan that escapes Ryoken at the gesture sending a feeling like electricity through his body.

“ _Ryoken_ ,” he pants out, feeling like he can barely breathe and loving it, the tip of his fingers barely brushing Ryoken’s cock sliding in and out, in and out, so slowly yet almost enough. He squeezes his eyes shut, bares his neck so Ryoken can color it even further with bites, and mumbles nonsense until he’s actually able to move his tongue properly, feeling it heavy in his mouth. “Ryoken… harder, please, I, I can’t like this.”

“Are you sure about that?” Ryoken chuckles, the sound shaky yet managing to still come out as condescending, and it’s doing things to him that shouldn’t, considering how much he needs to come right now, and chit chat won’t really get him there, will it?. “Do you like acting like this? You’re so desperate you can hardly move if it’s not to get my cock deeper. I would take a picture if I could.”

Yusaku gasps at the words, feeling that same electricity from before, and he realizes that he loves the debauchery of it, how filthy a picture it might be that he’s holding himself open and shaking for it, and it makes him rolls his hips as much as he can, the thrill of it fueling him further. He can’t give Ryoken an answer like this, only moans and little whimpers and saliva slipping out of his mouth because he’s drooling,but he doesn’t seem to need it.

“Hm, a little harder, you said?” Ryoken casually asks, and uses his hands to lift and guide Yusaku up and down at his own rhythm, slowly but making sure to make the last bit of it hard enough for him to finally let go and bury his head in Ryoken’s neck, letting him do whenever he wanted as long as it was _this._ “How close are you, princess?”

Yusaku shakes his head and allows tears to fall down his face, swallowing a sob. “So close, please, Ryoken, it’s so good.”

“I thought you wanted it fast,” Ryoken has a smirk in his voice, making feel Yusaku even more like he’s at his mercy. All thoughts of before are gone, the day wiped from his mind and zeroed in only the hot cock inside him, and he can’t help but think that he would spread his legs for Ryoken any day,any time, any place if it meant feeling like this. The thought is not new but always exhilarating in the moment. “Do you like being my slut, Yusaku? My princess and my slut?”

“Yes,” Yusaku blurts out, trying to move his hips a little faster, but Ryoken’s pace doesn’t falter at all. “I love it, Ryoken, it’s for you.”

“What is?” Ryoken thrusts a little faster himself, and Yusaku rolls his hips, trying to adjust the angle so it hits him dead on his prostate, biting his lip to stop himself from yelping when he feels it being pressed, and even though he would rather have it slammed, the anticipation building up inside him rises like a crescendo still, something about how merciless Ryoken is being with this pace making his cock throb and his ass clench. “Your body? Your ass?”

Yusaku presses his face against Ryoken’s neck, now mindlessly rolling his hips and letting his body take over, barely noticing when one of Ryoken’s hands leaves his waist and picking up the pace, ignoring how tired his legs are in favor of getting his prostate abused, the feeling of Ryoken’s chest rising and falling with quick breaths against him, comforting him that he’s doing it right, that this is good for both of them.

“Fuck, everything,” Yusaku gasps out, not wanting to leave the question hanging, and he whimpers when his reward seems to be Ryoken’s hand on his waist slipping down to grip his ass, making contact with Yusaku’s own hand and taking its place, allowing him to rest one of his sore arms against the car seat. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Ryoken curses softly under his breath and somehow manages to get to Yusaku’s mouth, kissing him like he’s holding back a smile. “You can let go, then. Have fun.”

It’s a green light, Yusaku realizes, for him to set the pace himself, now that Ryoken’s hands aren’t holding him still, and it makes him moan as he immediately raises himself as far as he can go and slams down, barely keeping it together as he’s assaulted with the difference of being teased until he literally almost can’t handle it and how fucking _good_ it is for Ryoken’s cock to fill him up so aggressively only to land right on his prostrate.

“ _Yusaku_ ,” Ryoken calls, his voice strained, probably overwhelmed by the sudden change, but his next words make Yusaku falter “Fuck, can I record this? I have my phone right here, you must look so good, shit, I want to watch it back.”

The thought makes Yusaku shiver and spasm so strongly that he thinks Ryoken feels it and sees it, goosebumps intensifying as he continues to ride him, nodding his head and breathing out affirmations because _fuck, he wants to see that,_ he wants to see that too.

His hips and legs taking care of the rest as he blindly chases after more of the sensation of Ryoken’s cock slipping inside him, feeling the car bounce ever so slightly with the strength he usually doesn’t have and is putting into this, not bothering to hold back any moans or noises at all anymore and not caring if someone comes across them despite it being unlikely. He almost wants it to happen, actually, because it’s so good he knows no one would be able to judge him from going all out like this, and Ryoken’s encouraging pants and groans and his grunting are enhancing the experience even more for him.

Yusaku’s coming shortly afterwards, even though the effort he was putting in made it feel longer. The skirt catches most of it as he sits on Ryoken’s cock and rolls his hips to ride it out, his body stuttering and tingly warmth running through his veins as it happens, his eyes squeezed shut and his head nestled against Ryoken’s shoulder. Little mewling sounds are leaving his lips even after he’s done, since Ryoken’s cock is still inside him and hard, so he decides to keep going, rolling his hips in fast, jerky movements until Ryoken’s coming inside him and filling him up, ass clenching and spasming around the feeling.

It takes him a while to come to. He registers the sweat first, how hot it is, then the sounds of his own breathing and Ryoken’s and his crazy heartbeat. A hand comes to rest over the back of his head, caressing his hair, and they linger in this rather sticky, almost painful embrace until Yusaku’s able to think over the sound of his heart.

“ _…fuck_ ,” he whines, and it’s long and a little wet because of the tears still falling, and Ryoken hums in agreement. It’s hard to make enough space between them to look at each other in the eye, but they manage, and Yusaku finally lets go of his own ass to weakly tangle that hand in Ryoken’s messy hair. “I can’t… I can’t decide if this was your best or worst idea ever.”

Ryoken grins at him, cocky yet full of love, and Yusaku wants to cry more, the buzzing of an intense orgasm through his body and how much he loves Ryoken almost proving to be too much and making him emotional, but he manages to hold it together and lean in to kiss him, shivering at the hint of playful teeth that don’t really mean to do anything.

“I think it was a really good idea,” Ryoken mumbles, kissing down the corner of his lips to his neck, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “Did I make your day better?”

“You make my _life_ better,” Yusaku snorts, and Ryoken makes a sound like the sweetness of the comment personally hurt him. Dropping a kiss against his temple, Yusaku smiles to himself, sighing. “That was so good, thank you. You were right.”

“Well, I’m the one that came up your ass, so maybe I should be thanking you,” Ryoken says, and Yusaku lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I have the video too.”

The reminder makes Yusaku freeze, tensing up even as a spark of excitement runs through his body. He licks his lips, notices Ryoken’s eyes following the movement, and hopes he won’t regret this later. “I wanna watch it.”

Instead of answering with words, Ryoken brings up his phone, handing it over to Yusaku, who unlocks it and finds—well, after hitting play, a rather shaky, mostly blurry video of himself riding Ryoken’s cock and moaning his head off, the skirt barely hiding anything. It’s barely eleven seconds long, but that’s more than enough time to leave no question about whether they’re enjoying themselves or not, the way Yusaku’s ass bounces and greedily takes Ryoken’s cock in being more than enough to prove it.

He plays it several times, his mouth dropping open and a little moan leaving his lips because while it’s incredibly embarrassing to hear himself, the image paired with the knowledge that this is _them_ just enjoying themselves makes that naughtiness inside of him come back up to attention and waggle its tail like it wants more.

Yusaku only snaps out of it when he feels Ryoken leaning in to watch with him, and instead stares as his face shifts and changes at the sight, going from expectant and curious to riled up in the space of a few seconds. He looks up after a few replays, makes eye contact, and runs his eyes over Yusaku’s body with a smirk slowly taking over his mouth.

“Wanna go home?” He mumbles, leans in to kiss his lips in a chaste gesture that leaves Yusaku burning, and doesn’t look remotely guilty about turning this around into dirty territory again.

Yusaku bites back his own grin. “You’re going to drive me back without even letting me put some underwear on?”

Ryoken’s jaw clenches, and Yusaku drops his phone on the seat, sweaty and sticky and just feeling disgusting overall, as he kisses Ryoken’s jaw, wondering what he has in mind, but he is certain of one thing: he has to thank Zaizen Aoi for the skirt, and apologize for not bringing it back.

**Author's Note:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
